


A Christmas Gift

by Panic_CelestialInk



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas, Fluff, Multi, OT3, Sexual Content, Sharing a Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 05:23:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8877628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panic_CelestialInk/pseuds/Panic_CelestialInk
Summary: "Remind me, why exactly are we in Resembool, instead of our comfortable Imperial Palace with hundreds of servants to wait on us, and no noisy Runts to wake us up?""The Elrics invited us to spend Christmas with them. Al apparently found out that Mei had never had a Christmas and convinced Ed to invite us all over."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I know this isn't the next chapter of my longer Greelingfan story, but I wanted to post something special up for Christmas. I hope everyone really enjoys it. It is a sort of sequel to "Snowstorm," my other story, but I believe it can stand alone.
> 
> This is really a Christmas present to my reviewers: jayjay, Lily, Lavender44, TheManNowDog, Savannab, SailingTheOTP, as well as to anyone who left me kudos, or who even just read my works. Your encouragement is so appreciated, and I hope that, even if you don't celebrate, you enjoy the story.
> 
> A Merry Christmas to all! (And if you don't celebrate, have a wonderful December anyway)

“Brother, wake up, it’s Christ—ARGH!”

 

“AL! GET OUT!”

 

“Brother, I’m sorry! I didn’t know you and Winry were, erm, busy?!”

 

“WE ARE, SO GET THE FUCK OUT!”

 

Greed snapped open his eyes, and blinked in the darkness. He groaned, rolled onto his side and pulled the pillow over his head. It was too damn early to be up. He lifted up the pillow and glanced at the alarm clock. Twenty past four in the morning. He clamped the pillow tighter over his head. Yep. Definitely too early to be awake. It was no good, though. He could still hear Al’s apologies and Ed’s yelling.

 

“GET OUT OF OUR ROOM, AL!” Great, now it sounded like Winry had joined in the argument. Greed’s suspicions were confirmed by a loud crash, and Al’s pained groans. Greed chuckled as he remembered how Winry had thrown him, Heinkel, Darius, and the two Briggs soldiers out of her room—it she’d probably done the same to Al. Greed sighed, giving up on sleep, and tucked the pillow beneath his head again. He rolled over onto his back, and stared up through the darkness at the ceiling. This was ridiculous. Ling wasn’t even awake yet, and he had an annoying habit of getting up before the sun rose to do Tai Chi. Ling claimed that the Tai Chi helped him focus his mind and ready himself for the demands of running a country. Greed suspected that Ling did it just to annoy him. More than once, Greed had woken up, to find their body standing in blinding sunlight, covered in a slick layer of sweat and panting hard.

 

Right now, though, Ling was curled up in the back of his mind, sound asleep. Greed let his eyes wander around the room. It wasn’t as luxurious as the Imperial Palace, of course, but it was still a decent place to stay. The boiler room in the basement fed steam into a series of copper pipes that threaded their way through the walls and floor of the entire house, keeping the temperature pleasantly warm, despite the snow swirling outside. The rooms were all filled with sturdy wooden furniture, that, though it wasn’t the most beautiful, it was definitely comfortable. The house had plenty of spare bedrooms as well. Since Winry had decided to open her own automail outfitter from her home, she needed spare bedrooms for her patients to use while they recovered from the initial attachment surgery.  In the room that the Elrics had assigned to him and Ling, there was a large bed, covered with a thick quilt, a dresser, as well as a large wardrobe with a full length mirror inside it.

 

 _Greed? Why are we awake so early? I thought you liked sleeping in._ As Ling spoke, Greed felt Ling’s awareness unfurl through their body, until it settled directly beneath Greed’s control.

 

_Good morning to you too, kid. And it’s because Tinman needs to learn how to knock._

 

_What?_

 

 _I’m not certain, but I_ think _Tinman may have walked in on the Runt and Peaches getting down and dirty._

 

Ling snickered. _Poor Al. I’m surprised he didn’t go blind._

 

_Me too. And, remind me, why exactly are we in Resembool, instead of our comfortable Imperial Palace with hundreds of servants to wait on us, and no noisy Runts to wake us up?_

 

_The Elrics invited us to spend Christmas with them. Al apparently found out that Mei had never had a Christmas and convinced Ed to invite us all over._

 

_So? You could have just stuck the little Royal-Pain-in-the-Ass on a train and then she would have been the one being woken up by the Runt._

 

_You know I couldn’t do that! She kept going on and on about how Al told her that Christmas was a time to spend with family and friends, and how we hadn’t all been together since the Promised Day, and—_

 

 _Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re such a_ sap _._

 

I’m _a sap? You practically melted when Mei mentioned that this would be Lan Fan’s first Christmas._

 

Greed scowled. _Shut up, you little pissant._

 

_Am I wrong?_

 

Greed decided to ignore Ling and his smug comments. He glanced at the clock again. Four thirty in the morning. No chance of him getting back to sleep now that Ling was awake. He kicked off the covers, and swung himself out of bed. He stood up, cracking his spine, and went over to the window. He couldn’t see much, except a few snowflakes flitting past the glass. Still, from the way his breath fogged up the pane, he could only imagine what the scenery outside would look like. There would be a thick carpet of snow spread across the fields. The shrubs and trees surrounding the house would each be coated with the flaky substance, and there would the strange, pristine smell of snow lingering in the air. A thin curtain of icicles would dangle from the roof of the house, and the porch which surrounded the house would have a light dusting of white—almost like sugar.

 

_You know, if you wanted to daydream, you could have done it in the bed. Where it’s more comfortable._

 

Greed sighed, and turned away from the window. He grabbed his long coat from where he’d left it on the chair in the corner, and pulled on a pair of slippers. He didn’t bother with a pyjama top—everyone would have to deal with him being bare-chested. Besides, he liked the way Lan Fan blushed whenever he—or Ling—was bare-chested around her

 

_Where are you going?_

 

_To get some coffee. I need coffee if I’m going to deal with your shit and the festive Christmas crap this early in the morning._

 

_It’s my turn, though._

 

_Tough shit. I want my coffee._

 

_You’ll still taste if even if I’m the one drinking it._

 

_It’s not the same!_

 

_Come on, Greed. It’s too early to argue. Besides, I don’t want to explain to Lan Fan why we’re not following the schedule._

 

_Who’s idea was it to change the schedule from switching daily, to switching every few hours?_

 

_Hers. She thought that since it’s a holiday we both deserved a chance to be in control._

 

_Yeah, yeah, I remember._

Greed let out a large yawn, and handed control over to Ling. Instantly, their knees buckled, and the floor raced towards them. They would have hit the floor, had Greed not snatched back control.

 

“What the hell was that, Ling?” Greed demanded aloud.

 

_Oops._

_"Oops?” What “Oops”?”_

 

_I—erm—I don’t think I ate enough last night?_

 

“YOU DIDN”T FEED US?! WHAT THE HELL?!”

 

 _Of course we ate, you dumbass! You’d have noticed if we hadn’t. I just didn’t eat_ enough.

 

_You mean to tell me that our body’s going to collapse as soon as I hand over control to you?_

_. . . yes._

 

Greed smirked. _Oh well, kid. Looks like I’m going to be in control for an entire day_

 

_What?! That’s not fair._

 

 _S_ _erves you right for not eating properly!_

 

Greed clutched at his head as Ling surged forward, scrambling for control. The two struggled, until Greed managed to force him back.

 

 _You idiot! Do you_ want _to collapse?_

 

_Come on, Greed. You can’t keep me locked up the entire holiday!_

 

_It’s not like you can’t see and hear what’s going on. Or like you haven’t spent long periods in the back seat before._

 

Greed thought back to when he’d first gotten this body. It had been easy to retain control at first, though Ling had smashed through and seized command occasionally. But, years of sharing the body—and fighting for control—meant that neither one of them was dominant any longer.

 

_Please, Greed. Isn’t Christmas supposed to be a time of goodwill and generosity?_

 

 _I’m_ Greed the Avaricious _. What makes you think I’d ever be generous?_

 

He felt Ling’s disappointment twinge through them and he groaned aloud.

 

_Don’t start sulking, you little shit. Fine, fine. We’ll switch shifts, alright? But, don’t you dare try and open any of my presents!_

 

_Of course not! I gave my word, didn’t I? And people from Xing always keep their word._

 

_You say that like it’s your catchphrase._

 

_Excuse me, Mr. “Nothing-Is-Impossible.”_

 

_Don’t rub that in my face._

***

 

Greed wasn’t really surprised to find that the commotion over Al’s intrusion hadn’t just woken him—and Ling—up. In the kitchen, leaning against the polished wooden countertop was Riza Hawkeye. Her hair was dishevelled, and she was wearing a pair of pastel, long-sleeve pyjamas, with a grey jacket thrown over her shoulders. In her hand, was a large mug, and the delicious aroma of the freshly brewed coffee filled the entire room.

 

“Morning, Sharpshooter.”

 

“Morning, Greed.”

 

He pointed at the mug. “Is there any left?”

 

Riza smiled and jerked her thumb over at a percolator, which was filled with a rich, black brown liquid. Greed went over, and inhaled deeply. Oh man. This was the good stuff. Not like that dishwater Ling usually brought to the Imperial Palace. He inhaled again, and made the decision to steal Ed’s entire coffee stash to take with him back to Xing.

 

_Are you just going to breathe it in, or are you actually going to drink anything?_

 

_You just don’t appreciate good coffee, kid._

 

Ling huffed his disagreement and Greed chuckled. He’d managed to get Ling as addicted to coffee as he was, but the kid still had a liking for tea that Greed couldn’t quite understand—though he did have to admit that some of the blends Ling introduced him to were delicious. He took out several cups from the cupboards, as well as a tea-pot. He knew Lan Fan—though she did drink coffee occasionally—preferred a cup of tea in the mornings. She even brought her own blend from Xing to drink while they were staying with the Elrics.

 

He put the kettle on, and waited for the water to boil, as he spooned in the blend into the strainer. The smell of jasmine, peppermint, liquorice and lemongrass wafted up from the mixture—and the aroma only grew stronger after he’d added the water. He then prepared two cups of coffee. One was his—strong, but not black, with half-a spoon of sugar. The other was for Mei—she liked hers with two sugars, a spoon of dark chocolate and plenty of milk.  He’d barely finished making her cup when the kitchen door swung open. In walked Roy Mustang, wearing a dressing gown, long pyjamas, and slippers. His hair stuck up in all directions. Greed recognised that hairstyle, and he smirked as he took a sip of his coffee. Roy barely noticed him as he navigated his way around the kitchen table with half-closed eyes.

 

_Looks like Ed wasn’t the only one getting down and dirty, hey kid?_

 

_Oh, I see. But, with the way those two act, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner._

 

_It probably did. They’re just more careful about letting people find out about it. Anti-fraternisation laws, you know._

 

_Yeah, I remember you explained it to me._

 

“Morning all,” Roy said, as he yawned.

 

“Morning.”

 

“Morning, sir. Your coffee is by the percolator.”

 

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Roy took a sip, and nearly chocked. “It’s cold!”

 

“Yes, sir. I made it when you woke up. It’s not my fault if you decided you wanted to lie in.”

 

Greed let out a bark of laughter. “Looks like you take after my brother, Sloth.”

 

“I’m not lazy!” Roy snarled, glaring at Greed.

 

“Who’s lazy?” Mei asked as she came into the room, tying the cords of her fluffy pink gown.

 

“The Fireball.” Greed handed Mei her cup, and she immediately perked up.

 

“Thanks, Greed!”

 

“No problem, Half-pint.”

 

_Tell her I say “Good Morning” and ask her if she slept well._

 

“I’m getting there, don’t rush me,” Greed snapped.

 

“What does Ling say?” Mei asked, untroubled by Greed’s outburst.

 

“Ling says good morning, and asks how you slept?”

 

“Pretty well. Xiao Mei was a bit cold though.”

 

Mei reached up and stroked her panda, when she frowned. “Hold on, I thought it was Ling’s turn this morning?”

 

Greed snickered. “It was supposed to be, but the little pissant didn’t eat enough last night, so if I give him control, our body will collapse.”

 

Mei giggled, and Roy laughed. Mei took another sip of her coffee.

 

“Ling doesn’t know how to take care of himself. How does he manage to run a country?” Roy asked.

 

“He doesn’t. I do most of the hard work.”

 

_Yeah right!_

 

Greed snickered again, then sent a sharp look at Mei. “Hey, Half-pint. Did you eat enough last night? I don’t want to deal with _two_ collapsed members of the royal family.”

 

She waved his concern away. “Of course I did! Don’t worry about me.” Xiao Mei nodded in confirmation.

 

“I’m not—”

 

_CRASH!_

 

“What the hell?”

 

Greed, Roy—who’d yanked on an ignition glove—Mei and Riza rushed to the door, towards the sound of Ed’s pained groans. Greed skidded to a halt as he found Ed lying in a heap at the bottom of the staircase.

 

“You hurt?” Greed asked.

 

Ed glared at him. “No. I’m lying here for fun.”

 

“Fullmetal, what happened?”

 

“I—”

 

“Brother!” Al appeared in the corridor, and raced to his brother’s side. “What happened?”

 

“That’s what I asked.”

 

Ed grimaced and forced himself into a seated position. He tried to get up, but he couldn’t seem to manage it.  Roy and Greed exchanged a glance, but Al’s eyes never left his brother. Ed gave a sigh.

 

“Help me up, Al.”

 

Ed reached out and grabbed Al’s hand. Al hauled him to his feet, and Ed hissed as his automail buckled under his weight. Immediately, Al took Ed’s full weight, and Roy grabbed Ed’s other arm. Between the two of them, they dragged Ed to the lounge. Greed spared a glance for the decorations in the room. Someone—most probably Al—had already arranged all the couches and the armchairs in a ring around the tree. The tree was huge, and covered with tinsel, baubles and strange, hand carved wooden decorations. Greed could see Ed’s hand in the decorations—particularly in the little skulls wearing santa hats, and the demonic reindeer pulling Santa’s sleigh.

 

“What happened, Fullmetal?” Roy demanded, as he helped Al lower Ed onto one of the couches.

 

Riza came into the room, and stood near the fireplace, which had several stockings dangling from the mantelpiece. Before Ed could answer, Winry burst into the room. Her gown was untied, her hair was a matted mess, and her eyes were round with worry.

 

“Ed, are you all right?”

 

She threw herself down on the couch next to him, and immediately began checking Ed for injuries, her fingers fluttering over his body.

 

“I’m fine, Win,” Ed said, catching her hands.

 

“Well, Fullmetal?”

 

“It’s my automail,” Ed hissed.

 

“EDWARD ELRIC! Haven’t you been taking care of your automail!” Winry yelled, yanking her hands free, and whipping a wrench out from somewhere inside her dressing gown.

 

  _Where the hell did that come from?_

 

_We’ll never know. Kid, you gotta remember that Winry is a woman—and no man will ever know all of a woman’s secrets._

 

“Don’t hit me with that wrench! It’s not my fault. You know what happens with automail in the cold weather!”

 

Winry’s eyes went soft, and she tucked the wrench away. “I know. I’ve got hot towels and a few hot packs wrapped up and ready for you.”

 

“What happens to automail?” Riza asked.

 

_Greed._

 

“Well, unless the automail is specially designed for cold weather, it can cause exposure. Even if the automail is designed for cold weather, it can still cause the patient pain.”

 

“You’re in pain?” Roy asked, sharply. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

“It’s not that bad.”

 

_Greed!_

 

“Brother, you fell down a staircase.”

 

“So, my automail seized up. So what? I’ve had a lot worse.”

 

“Whether you’ve had worse or not isn’t the point. You have a responsibility to take care of yourself, Fullmetal. Not doing so is reckless and—”

 

“I’m reckless? Who tried to take on Scar in the middle of a thunderstorm?”

 

“That was one time and I was saving your ass!”

 

“All I remember is the Lieutenant saving _your_ ass.”

 

_GREED!_

 

“What is it, you pest!” Greed demanded, ignoring the way the others stared at him—well, the way Roy, Winry and Riza stared at him. Ed and Mei were used to his semi-audible conversations with Ling.

 

 _Didn’t you hear what Winry said about automail and cold weather?_ Ling asked, frantically.

 

_Yeah, I heard, so—oh, FUCK, not again!_

 

“Peaches? Where the hell do you keep the warm towels?”

 

“In the boiler room, why—“

 

Greed didn’t wait for her to finish. He raced for the staircase.

 

 _Brace yourself!_ He told Ling.

 

Greed leapt down the stairs, sheathing his legs in the Ultimate Shield. He grunted as he hit the concrete floor, leaving a large crater behind him.

 

_Towels, towels .. . where the hell are the towels?_

 

His eyes darted around the room, from the cast-iron boiler, to the piles of logs, to the wooden table with tools scattered over it.

 

 _How should I know?_ Ling demanded. _I can only look at the things you—wait, over there, on the chair!_

 

Greed swung their eyes back to the chair, and spotted the towels. He grabbed a towel, tossed it over their shoulder, and sped back up the stairs, taking them two at a time until he reached the third floor, where Lan Fan’s rooms were.

 

He pounded on the door. “Toots, you okay?”

 

No answer. He pounded on the door again. “Toots, answer me, damnit.”

 

_Do you think she’s all right?_

 

_If she doesn’t answer in the next few minutes, I’m breaking down the door._

 

_Ed won’t be happy about that._

 

_Tough shit. He can add it to the room service bill you still owe him._

 

_Right. Tell Lan Fan I’ll order her to open up if she doesn’t respond._

 

“Toots, Ling says he’ll order you to open the door. And if he doesn’t, I’ll break it down. Either way, you’d better be decent because we’re coming in.”

 

***

 

Lan Fan peeled back the curtain and scowled at the swirling flakes. Her shoulder was aching, and each tiny movement sent bolts of pain shooting through her. Most of the time, having an automail arm didn’t really bother her. It was an asset, in fact—it meant that she was never without the weapon she needed to defend the Emperor. But, when the weather and her automail conspired to make her _weak_ —that was when she loathed it. 

 

_There are some enemies even the greatest warriors can’t fight. Nature is one of them._

 

Grandfather’s words echoed in her ears. He’d first told her that when she’d tried to save the Emperor—then, he’d only been the Young Lord— from being swept out to sea, and had nearly drowned herself. Only Grandfather’s quick intervention had saved them—though he’d made them run laps around the Yao complex as punishment for being so foolish as to go swimming in the ocean unsupervised.

 

Her lips quirked. Although Grandfather had given her that advice, it hadn’t stopped him from complaining about the aches and pains brought on by old age.

 

She was so hooked by her memories that she barely noticed the pounding on her door.

 

“Toots, Ling says he’ll order you to open the door. And if he doesn’t, I’ll break it down. Either way, you’d better be decent because we’re coming in.”

 

Lan Fan groaned and rushed over to the door. Obviously it was them. They always worried so much over her. She didn’t understand why—it was her duty to protect them, not the other way around. She unlocked the door and found herself face to face with Greed. The first thing  she noticed was the expression of concern in their eyes—before Greed covered it up with his trademark, cocky grin. The second thing she noticed was that they were bare-chested. Her cheeks heated as her eyes fixed on the sculpted planes of their chest—she was having difficulty reminding herself why she should look away until she noticed the final thing: she was wearing a strapless pyjama top and loose pants—entirely inappropriate attire for the Emperor’s presence. It was the urge to run and grab her uniform that broke her out of admiring their amazing body.

 

She ignored her blush, and met his gaze. “What do you want, Greed?”

 

“Ed fell down the stairs, and ended up reminding everyone that cold weather makes automail hurt. Ling and I wanted to check up on you.”

 

“Well, I’m fine. I’ll see you downstairs.”

 

She tried to shut the door on them, but Greed stopped her with a clawed hand.

 

“Cut the crap, Toots. I can see your automail is hurting you from the way you’re holding your arm. Even the kid noticed it, and, let’s face it, he’s an idiot.”

 

“Don’t talk about the Emperor like that.”

 

“Come on, Toots. You can’t deny he’s done some stupid stuff. And don’t change the topic. You’re in pain, and we’re here to help. We’ve done it before, after all.”

 

That was exactly the problem. The last time they’d tended to her automail—the Emperor by placing his fire-warmed clawed hands on the scar tissue, and Greed by massaging the muscles—it had sent ripples of sensation through her—reminding her of all the feelings she _shouldn’t_ be feeling about both of them.

 

She glanced at Greed, but his face was set. With a sigh, she stepped aside and allowed him into the room.

 

“It’s not that bad,” she muttered as she shut the door and moved to sit on the bed. “It’s a minor injury.”

 

Greed groaned. “Toots, that’s not comforting. For you ‘minor injury’ includes everything from a hangnail to non-lethal stab wounds.”

 

She glared at him as he sat down next to her. He had a towel thrown over one shoulder. He took it and carefully draped it over her automail port—right at the point where the metal was welded into her flesh.

 

“This should help. At least, that’s what Winry said,” Greed said.

 

Personally, Lan Fan thought that the towel was nowhere near as effective as their heated, clawed hands, but she didn’t say anything. The warmth seeped into her aching muscles. After a few moments, she tried to reach up and pull off the towel, but Greed caught her hand

 

“Oh no you don’t, Toots. I want to make sure that your muscles are nice and warm, before I start working on them.”

 

“What?”

 

Greed ignored her, and kept a hold of her hand. His gentle touch made her skin glow, just like it always did. After a few moments, he peeled off the towel, and leaned in close to inspect the port.

 

“I think that’s a bit better.”

 

He released her hand, and then started massaging her neck and shoulder, with strong, powerful motions. Involuntarily, she let out a sigh as the pain dissipated.

 

Greed smirked at her.

 

“Minor injury, huh?”

 

She glared at him, and then a thought occurred to her. “Wait, isn’t it supposed to be His Majesty’s turn?”

 

Greed chuckled. “It is, except the moron didn’t eat enough last night, so if I hand over control, our body will collapse.”

 

“You’re going to _collapse?!”_

 

Lan Fan tried to jump up and rush to her pack—she was sure she had a packet of trail rations stored _somewhere_ —but Greed grabbed her uninjured shoulder and held her in place.

 

“Would you calm down?! I’m not going to collapse. _Ling_ will collapse if I hand over control, and I won’t let that happen. Just stay still.”

 

“Let me go, Greed. You need to eat before—”

 

“I’m fine. I told you, Toots, nothing’s going to—Goddamnit!” His eyes widened and he slumped.

 

Lan Fan caught him with a cry. “Greed, are you okay?”

 

“ . . . Not Greed” came a weak voice.

 

“Your Majesty?”

 

“Yes.” The Emperor weakly gripped her forearms. “I took . . . control . . . tell you not to worry. . . Greed will eat for us . . . take care of yourself.”

 

“Your Majesty, you—“”

 

“Listen to me . . . I’m fine.”

 

A tremor ran through him, and the grip on Lan Fan’s arms tightened.

 

“Damn dumbass. I _told_ him not to take control,” Greed said as he straightened.

 

Their cheek brushed hers as he moved. Her breath stuttered. She was very aware of how close they were. He stared at her with that penetrating, wine-coloured gaze,and somehow, she could have sworn she saw the Emperor staring at her as well. She leant towards them—

 

“Hey Greed, Lan Fan, are you guys okay?” Al’s voice came from the other  side of the door.

 

Lan Fan pulled away from them.

 

“We’re fine, Al,” she said.

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yes. We’ll be down in a few minutes.”

 

“Okay.”

 

She heard Al moving away from the door, and she stood up.

 

“You’d better go, before they decide to send a search party after us.”

 

Greed frowned at her. “Toots—“

 

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Now, go.” She shooed them out the door, and closed it behind them. Then, she leant her forehead against the wood and tried to calm her fluttering heart.

 

***

Mei almost let out a scream. The three of them—Lan Fan, Greed and Ling—had been about to kiss! And then Alphonse had interrupted them! She gritted her teeth.

 

_Alphonse, I love you, but right now I want to throttle you._

 

Mei _knew_ that both Ling and Greed were in love with Lan Fan. And she knew that Lan Fan had feelings for them both—but none of them did anything about it! So, when she’d seen Greed rushing out the room, she’d ducked outside, tightened her dressing gown and scaled the outside wall of the house, despite Xiao Mei’s shrill protests. It had been absurdly easy—especially since she used her kunai to give her extra hand-holds and foot-holds. She’d perched just outside Lan Fan’s window, and peeped in. She’d _hoped_ that the three of them would sort things out—so much for that!

 

Xiao Mei nipped her ear and she yelped.

 

“I know, I know. We’d better get inside.”

 

Mei scrambled along, feeling only slightly guilty about leaving marks in the wall of Winry’s house. She supposed she could always offer to repair them later with alkahestry. She slipped through inside another window, and brushed off the snowflakes clinging to her pyjamas. She darted nimbly down the stairs to where everyone else was waiting. Ed was still on the couch, while Winry knelt near him, apparently busy with some maintenance to his automail, if the tools in her hands were anything to go by. Alphonse was standing near the tree, and watching them with a mischievous smile on his face. Roy and Riza were both sitting on armchairs, their elbows brushing, as they watched Winry work. Greed was leaning against the door, and kept shooting anxious glances at the staircase.

 

“Something wrong, Greed?” Riza asked.

 

“Nah . . . hey, Peaches, when’s breakfast?”

 

“Not long. I’ve almost finished preparing everything. We’re just waiting for Sig and Izumi to arrive. Granny didn’t want to walk through the snow, so we’ll pay her a visit later.”

 

“Yeah, I kind of miss the old hag.” Ed yelled as Winry tightened one of the screws.

 

“Be nice, Ed,” she scolded.

 

“I’m always nice!”

 

“Do you want me to fetch Izumi and Sig? I can melt the snow around my car and drive to the station,” Roy offered.

 

“No need. Teacher said that a brisk walk through the snow would help her work up an appetite before breakfast,” Alphonse said.

 

Mei caught movement in the corner of her eye. She half-turned, and saw Lan Fan had slipped into the room. She was still wearing her pyjamas, though  she had changed her pyjama top for one with much longer sleeves. She still looked pale, though, and Mei made a promise to corner the woman later and force her to accept a healing. No one should be in pain over a holiday. Greed noticed her as well. He picked up the cup of tea he’d prepared and handed it to her.

 

“Here, Toots. It looks like you need it.”

 

“Thanks, Greed,” she said, taking a gulp.

 

“Aww, how sweet,” Ed said, and snickered.

 

Greed glared at him, and Mei giggled.

 

Alphonse suddenly cleared his throat. “Speaking of sweet . . . Brother, you might want to look up.”

 

Everyone, not just Ed and Winry, glanced at the ceiling. Immediately, Greed and Roy began to laugh, while Ed and Winry blushed. Hanging above them, from a hook clearly made by alchemy, was a little plant with flat green leaves and little yellow berries.

 

“Al, I’m going to kill you,” Ed said through gritted teeth.

 

“I don’t get it,” Mei said, going over to Riza’s chair. “Why are Ed and Winry so embarrassed?”

 

“The plant is mistletoe,” Riza explained, “and it’s traditional for two people under the mistletoe to kiss.”

 

Mei sucked in a sharp breath, and Xiao Mei did the same. They had to kiss when they were under the plant? Maybe then she could—

 

“Yeah, except the Runt doesn’t have the guts to do it,” Greed said with a smirk.

 

“Screw you, Greed.” Ed said.

 

He gripped Winry’s shoulders, and kissed her. Winry eagerly responded, dropping her tools, and almost climbing onto Ed’s lap as it progressed. The two of them ignored Greed’s wolf-whistles and Al’s laughter. It was only when Roy snapped his fingers at them—though with his ungloved hand— that they broke apart.

 

“What the hell?” Ed demanded. “Are you trying to burn down my house?!”

 

“Fullmetal, if you become any more enthusiastic, you might want to move to the bedroom.”

 

“If I want to kiss my wife, I’ll damn well kiss my wife. It’s my house, after all.”

 

“Ed,” Winry mumbled, turning red.

 

“It’s true.”

 

“Why don’t we, erm, continue this later?” Winry asked. “After all, Izumi and Sig should be here—”

 

There was a loud banging on the door. Ed and Alphonse both went pale.

 

“Oh, help. They’re early.”

 

“We’re not even dressed yet, Brother!”

 

“It’s okay,” Ed tried to hide the quaver in his voice. “Teacher’s seen us in our pyjamas before.”

 

“Right. Brother, you answer it.”

 

“No, you answer it. She likes you best.”

 

“No, you.”

 

“No, you.”

 

“No—”

 

“Oh, hell. I’ll answer it,” Winry snapped, climbing off Ed’s lap.

 

“NO!”

 

Ed stood up, and swallowed hard. “I’ll answer it.”

 

He walked boldly towards the door, ignoring Greed and Roy’s snickers, as well as Mei’s giggles. Mei saw his hands were shaking as he opened the door.

 

“Hello, Teach—” He yelled as he was suddenly yanked through the door.

 

“Ed!” Winry cried, as she raced out the door, followed closely by Alphonse, and then everyone else.

 

Mei saw two people standing on the porch. The one was a bulky man with a dark beard, who was wearing a fur-lined khaki coat. The other was a woman with dreadlocks, a pink scarf and a white coat. They could only be Sig and Izumi Curtis. Izumi was grinning and her grin only widened when she caught sight of Alphonse.

 

“Hello, Alphonse. You’re looking well.” She held out her hand

 

Alphonse gulped. “H-Hello, Teacher. I—”

 

He let out a yell as Izumi hurled him off the porch to land ontop of Ed, who had just managed to clamber to his feet. Mei couldn’t help laughing along with the others as they watched the two brothers try to untangle themselves.

 

“Great shot, Teach,” Greed said.

 

Izumi frowned at him. “I know you. You’re Ling Yao, am I right?”

 

He winked at her. “Nope, but close though. We’ve met before, though I looked a hell of a lot better then. I’m Greed the Avaricious.”

 

He held out his hand. Izumi shook it—and then flung him through the air, to land on top of Ed and Al.

 

“That’s for kidnapping my family! And for breaking my hand!”

 

Izumi suddenly doubled over, coughing. Sig rushed to her, and supported her as the fit passed.

 

“You shouldn’t over-exert yourself, dear,” he rumbled, as he drew out a vial of medicine.

 

“I’m fine, dear. Trust me, I know my limits.” She took the medicine, swallowed it, and handed him back the empty vial

 

“Just be careful. I don’t want you to be bed-ridden over a holiday.”

 

Izumi reached up and stroked his cheek. “Thank you for the concern."

 

“What’s this about kidnapping?” Mei looked at Riza in confusion.

 

“It’s a long story,” Riza said.

 

“Yeah, and it involves Greed kidnapping Al, and Ed losing his temper, as usual,” Winry said, rolling her eyes.

 

Mei frowned, and resolved to give the homunculus a severe talking to when she got the chance—and possibly use her kunai on him. No one was allowed to hurt her sweet Alphonse, after all.

 

“Are you sure Greed is all right?” Lan Fan asked fretfully.

 

She was shifting from foot to foot. Riza put a hand on her arm. “Don’t worry he’s fine. Look.”

 

Sure enough, the three men had managed to untangle themselves, but, as they watched, Greed grabbed a fistful of snow, and stuffed it down Ed’s shirt. Ed swore, and squirmed, trying to dislodge the snow. Alphonse tackled Greed, and Ed stuffed snow down Greed’s shirt. Now, Greed was the one swearing and shouting. He tried to tackle Ed, but was grabbed by Alphonse, and it quickly turned into a wrestling match in the snow.

 

Roy sighed. “I suppose you want me to go and break the fight up, Lieutenant?”

 

“That would be appreciated, sir.”

 

“Very well.”

 

He leapt over the railings, and gasped as his feet sank into the snow. He trudged forward, muttering complaints under his breath, as he approached the wrestling men.

 

“All right, Fullmetal. That’s enough. The Lieutenant—”

 

Ed grabbed Roy’s ankles, and yanked him off his feet. Roy plunged into the snow, and then sat up, swearing. He flung snow at Ed’s face, and as Ed spluttered, he dragged Ed into the snow. Alphonse tried to help his brother, but Greed intervened. He shoved Alphonse under the snow, snickering as Alphonse struggled to come up for air.

 

_Oh no, you don’t!_

 

Mei leapt over the railings, and scooped some snow into her hand. She made a snowball, and flung it directly at Greed.

 

“Oi, Half-pint! What the hell are you doing?”

 

Mei giggled at his shocked expression, and yelped as something hard and cold hit her in the back. Lan Fan had apparently rushed to Greed’s defence. Winry had also decided to join in by jumping on Roy and Ed. Mei grabbed more snowballs—Xiao Mei had taken it upon herself to provide Mei with ammunition—and hurled them at Lan Fan, who returned fire. Mei ducked under Lan Fan’s attacks, but was hit in the head by someone else’s snowball. She heard Ed snicker, then yell as Lan Fan hit him squarely in the face with her snowball.

 

“Hey! I was helping you!”

 

“Who says I need your help?”

 

The fight—a mix of snow-wrestling and snowball fighting—continued for a while, with alliances and rivalries changing every few seconds.  Mei’s hands were soon numb, and her clothes sodden. She was shrieking with laughter. She grabbed another snowball, took aim at Winry, and—

 

_Thud! Thud! Thud!_

A barrage of snowballs pelted Mei, striking her chest, face, shoulders. She shrieked and grabbed Xiao Mei to shield her from the attack. Mei dove behind a shrub for cover. She peeked out, and saw that Riza had decided to end the fight by using her own snowballs. Winry was sheltering behind a tree with Lan Fan, Greed had taken cover behind a snow drift, and Roy was standing with a hand in the air.

 

“All right, Lieutenant, I—” A snowball struck Roy directly in the face, knocking him flat.

 

“What the hell, Lieutenant?”

 

“Sir, I’m a sniper. You should hide your ammo better, if you want to hit me with a snowball.”

 

“Nothing gets past you, huh?”

 

“No, sir.” Riza set down her snowball and folded her arms.

 

Mei and the others cautiously left their hiding places, but the fight seemed to have petered out. The only two who seemed to want to continue were Ed and Alphonse, who were still busy wrestling in the snow. Riza sighed and reached for a snowball, but Mei saw Izumi lay a hand on the woman’s arm.

 

“Let me.”

 

Izumi cracked her knuckles, and leapt into the snow. She marched over to the Elrics and administered two sharp slaps to the backs of their heads.

 

“We’re eating now, so go inside and get changed before you get sick,” she ordered them, ignoring their cries of pain.

 

At the mention of food, Mei’s stomach snarled, and she rushed into the house alongside everyone else.   

 

***

 

Ling chewed his food thoughtfully. Usually, a feast like this would command all his attention. There were wine-soaked, spicy beef sausages that sent flavour sparking across his tongue; fresh baked bread-loaves with their delicious aroma, crackling crusts, and butter dribbling over their flesh; juicy, fried mushrooms the size of his palm; rolled pancakes with honey oozing out of either end, and crispy bacon, amongst other mouth-watering dishes. But, Ling’s mind was fixed on his encounter with Lan Fan. He could still feel the softness of her cheek as it brushed against theirs. The smoothness of her skin beneath their palms. The scent that lingered around her—automail oil, orchids, a touch of gunpowder, and something else that was exquisitely _her._

 

_And her curves. Don’t forget her curves._

 

_Greed . . ._

 

_What? You’re telling me you didn’t notice the curves on her gorgeous body?_

 

_Of course I noticed!_

 

“LING!”

 

“What?” He asked, suddenly focusing back on the world around him.

 

He noticed that everyone else had empty plates in front of them, and that most of the serving dishes were empty.

 

“Aren’t you done yet? It’s almost time to open presents,” Al said.

 

Ling glanced at his plate. His stomach was stretched to a comfortable tightness, but surely he could manage another helping of—

 

“Don’t even think about it, you dumbass,” Ed snapped. “You’ve eaten three helpings, and that’s not including the two Greed had before he switched over to you. I’m not having you eat everything I have.”

 

“Ed, don’t be mean, it’s fine if Ling has some more, if he wants.”

 

“Is there any more to feed him?” Ed asked.

 

Ling laughed before Winry could respond. “Don’t worry, I’m good.”

 

_You’d better be, you little pissant._

 

“Right. Now we just need to clean up,” Winry said.

 

Izumi stood, grabbing the dirty dishes and thrusting them at Ling. “Take those to the kitchen.”

 

Ling nodded, and obeyed, watching as Izumi organised everyone so that the table was cleared and the dishes cleaned within a few short minutes.

 

To be honest, Ling liked helping out with the mundane things like washing dishes or clearing the table. Just like—in a weird way—he liked Ed calling him a moron or an idiot. It helped Ling remember that he was still just Ling Yao.

 

 _Not this again,_ Greed groaned.

 

_What?_

 

_These stupid worries that you have about loosing your identity. You always go on and on about feeling like the reputation of the Emperor is going to crush you. That you won’t be Ling Yao anymore._

 

 _It’s a legitimate concern!_ Ling snarled silently.

 

_You’re just being melodramatic. You’ll always have me to remind you of how much of a pest you really are._

 

 _Gee, thanks._ Ling resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

 

“Your Majesty?” Lan Fan said, quietly, as she touched his forearm.

 

“Yes?”

 

“The others are waiting for you.”

 

“Oh.” He hadn’t realised that he’d been left behind.

 

He followed Lan Fan into the lounge, and saw that everyone had taken their seats. Winry and Ed sat on one end of the couch, with Izumi and Sig on the other end. Izumi was resting comfortably in Sig’s lap, and the man had his arms wrapped around her. Mei was perched on the arm of Al’s chair, while Roy and Riza had taken seats in two adjacent armchairs. The setting was very casual—everyone was wearing old, comfortable shirts and tracksuits, and had cups of either coffee or tea nearby them. Ling took a seat on the floor, near Mei, and Lan Fan sat beside him.  As Ling looked around, images flickered in front of him: An oversized Christmas tree—decorated with anything and everything—which had somehow been crammed into a basement; a turkey that had been reduced to charcoal, good-natured teasing about not peeing on the tree; animal-themed presents.

 

It took Ling a moment to realise whose memories they were.

 

_Greed?_

 

_Piss off, you little pest, who said you could look?_

 

Greed’s pain rang through their body, making Ling grit his teeth, and clench his fists. There was even a slight stinging in Ling’s eyes.

 

_I’m sorry, Greed._

 

_Don’t worry about me, partner. Worry about what will happen to us if we don’t pay attention to Half-pint._

 

Ling saw that Mei was almost bouncing up and down, and she kept glancing at the pile of presents beneath the tree.

 

“Can I hand out mine first? Can I?” she begged.

 

“Sure thing, Mei,” Winry said.

 

Mei let out a squeal and dove beneath the tree. She snatched up about ten parcels, and then raced around the room, thrusting them into people’s hands. Ling ended up with two—one for him, and one for Greed.

 

 _Hmm . . . I wonder which one’s mine. Could it be this one?_ He teasingly reached towards Greed’s parcel.

 

 _Don’t you dare!_ Greed growled.

 

Ling laughed, and grabbed his own parcel. He ripped through the paper, and a bundle fell out. He scooped it up, and his eyebrows rose. It was a scarf made from Xingese silk—high quality Xingese silk. It was a deep yellow, and decorated with patterns of a rising phoenix. There was also Xingese kanji on the silk, but before Ling could read them, Greed grabbed control and started ripping open his own parcel.

_Hey, I was still busy!_

 

 _Tough shit._ Greed let out an appreciative whistle as he inspected his own present. It was a scarf as well, except this one was black and gold, with a pattern of dragons running across it. Greed grinned at Mei.

 

“This is pretty awesome, Half-pint. Thanks.”

 

Ling snatched control back. “Thank you, Mei.”

 

He pressed his palms together and sent a half-bow towards her. Mei looked extremely pleased with herself, as the group exclaimed their thanks. As Ling looked around, he saw that everyone had received a scarf from Mei. Ed’s was a deep red, whilst Winry’s was cherise pink. Roy had received one that was a burnt orange colour and decorated with images of flames, whilst Riza was wearing her sky blue scarf over her shoulders. Of course, hers had a pattern of hawks decorating it. Sig’s was a deep forest-green, whilst Izumi’s was a light pink—she’d already forgone her old scarf in favour of the new one. But, the scarf that really caught Ling’s eyes was Al’s. It was a midnight blue, and decorated with images of the Xingese landscape—in particular, the mountains that overlooked the lands belonging to the Chang Clan, if Ling wasn’t mistaken. And, there was Mei’s name decorating the scarf.

 

_Half-pint isn’t being very subtle about this, is she?_

 

_Not really, but she did tell him that she loved him when she was eleven years old._

 

_I don’t think Tinman took that very seriously._

 

_He didn’t. She did._

_It’s gonna be funny watch Half-pint work. Like a kitten stalking a bird._

 

 _Though, I think this bird’s going to be happy to be caught._ Ling suddenly clenched his fists. _But, if he even thinks of taking advantage of Mei . . ._

 

Ling felt a tingling, and glanced down. Greed’s Ultimate Shield was covering both his hands.

_If he hurts, Half-pint, we turn him into scrap-metal._

 

_Good plan._

 

“I can’t accept this!”

 

Lan Fan’s cry jolted Ling out of his conversation with Greed. He looked at Lan Fan, and saw that she was staring at the scarf in her lap. It was magnificent—gold and purple with images of tigers along the fabric. Lan Fan stood up, re-wrapping the gift as she moved and held it out to Mei.

 

“I can’t accept this, Princess,” Lan Fan repeated softly.

 

“Don’t you like it?”

 

“It’s beautiful! But, Princess, I can’t—”

 

“I don’t get it,” Winry said. “what’s the problem?

 

“Purple and gold, as well as the tigers are the symbols of the Imperial Family. As a commoner, it’s not appropriate for me to wear them.”

 

Mei stood up and put her hands on her hips. “Well, I _am_ a member of the Imperial family, so I can decide who I want to wear those colours. I want you to wear them.”

 

Lan Fan gaped at Mei. She looked from Mei to the scarf, then back to Mei and swallowed hard.

 

“You honour me,” she said, and started to bow.

 

“Oh no you don’t!” Mei threw herself at Lan Fan and wrapped her arms around the older woman.

 

Lan Fan looked shocked, but then, after a few moments, she hesitantly returned the hug.

 

_Ling, explain?_

 

_Mei’s just told Lan Fan that she considers her a sister._

 

 _Really?_ Greed chuckled. _It was kind of obvious already. Why the drama?_

 

_Who knows?_

 

“We’ll hand out our gifts, next, right, dear?” Izumi said.

 

Sig nodded, and lifted Izumi off his lap. He pulled out several parcels from beneath the tree, and threw them at the rest of the group, before settling back down. Ling nearly fumbled his catch as he tried to grab both his present and Greed’s at the same time. This time, Ling stepped aside before Greed could seize control, and let the homunculus tear open his present first. It was a navy, knitted jersey, with a pattern of presents running across it, and a large “G” on the back.

 

“Thanks Teach, this is pretty cool.”

 

_Erm, Greed?_

 

Greed ignored him, and reached for Ling’s present.

 

_Greed, what are you—you bastard! That’s not fair!_

 

Ling fought for control, but too late—Greed had already ripped open Ling’s gift by the time Ling managed to regain control. It was a knitted jersey, like Greed’s, except it was decorated with candy canes and had a large “L” on it.

 

“I’m going to get you back for that, you bastard,” Ling muttered.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.” Ling looked at Izumi and Sig. “Thank you so much for the gift.”

 

“I was told to make you only one jersey  with the name “Greeling” written on it, but Winry gave me a frantic phone-call and begged me not too.”

 

Ling glared at Ed.

 

“What?”

 

“How many times have we told you not to call us “Greeling”?!” Ling demanded.

 

“Oh, come on. It’s too hard to keep track of who’s in control. “Greeling” works fine.”

 

“Call us that again, you little Runt, and I’ll rip out your tongue,” Greed growled, shoving Ling out the way.

 

“You see!” Ed cried, pointing at them.

 

“I don’t have a problem telling His Majesty apart from Greed,” Lan Fan said.

 

“Thank you!” Ling thrust Greed aside so he could speak.

 

“Yeah, but you can do that weird qi sensing thing.”

 

“Sensing qi has nothing to do with it.”

 

“You just need to pay more attention, Fullmetal.”

 

“What?!”

 

“Okay, my turn!” Winry interjected, before Ed and Roy could start an argument.

 

She got up and gathered several rectangular boxes into her arms, and then passed them out—a box each. Everyone ripped their open as soon as they received them.

 

“Apple and cinnamon! My favourite! Thanks, Winry!”

 

“I got gingerbread! Thank you.”

 

“I see that Al and Ed have been gossiping about us, Izumi,” Sig said.

 

“I know. How else would Winry know that your favourite biscuits are white chocolate macadamia, and that mine are condensed milk?”

 

Al gulped. “Winry asked us! It’s not our fault!”

 

“Don’t worry, Al,” Izumi said, then she frowned.

 

“What’s the matter, Ed?” she asked.

 

Ed was staring at his biscuits with a grim expression.

 

“Don’t you like your gift, Ed?”Winry asked, her eyes dancing.

 

“I like them! It’s just . . . they’re _shortbread_ biscuits.”

 

Roy, Al and Ling cracked up, and Greed howled with laughter in the back of Ling’s head.

 

_Please, tell Peaches that’s the best joke I’ve heard all year!_

 

“Winry, that’s brilliant!” Ling gasped out.

 

Winry tried—and failed—not to look pleased with herself.

 

“Very funny, Win,” Ed said. “I’m glad you like making me the butt of the jokes.”

 

“I couldn’t resist, Ed.” Winry giggled.

 

“It’s appropriate, Fullmetal, after all you are sho—”

 

With a roar, Ed launched himself at Roy, and the two disappeared behind the couch as they wrestled.

 

Riza sighed, and gathered up both her box and the one belonging to Roy.

 

“Thank you for the vanilla biscuits, Winry. And I know that the Colonel appreciates his chilli-chocolate ones.”

 

“It’s not a problem,” Winry said, and glanced at the fighting me, “Shouldn’t we try to separate them?”

 

“Don’t bother.” Izumi said, “It’s how these two show they care about each other.”

 

Riza nodded, and Winry sighed. Ling pulled his attention away from the wrestling duo, and tore the wrapping off his biscuits. The smell of peanut butter smacked him in the face, and his mouth watered.

 

_Peanut butter choc chip!_

Ling snatched three biscuits, and crammed them into his mouth, moaning as the flavour raced across his tongue. He stuffed two more into his mouth, and nearly chocked as Greed tried to snatch control.

 

_Screw you, Greed! I’m trying to eat my biscuits._

 

_So what? I wanna eat mine, you little pissant._

 

Ling glanced at Greed’s box, and licked his lips.

 

_Don’t you dare, you bastard._

 

Greed struggled for control, but Ling shoved him back. Ling’s hand shook as he reached for Greed’s present. He ripped open Greed’s gift, shovelled three biscuits into his mouth and swallowed, smirking as the flavour of chocolate coated his throat.

 

_YOU BASTARD!_

 

Ling doubled over, clawing at his head, as Greed pounded at his control.

_You bastard! You damn little pissant! Why did you do that, huh? What happened to the Xingese always keep their word?_

 

_You broke your word first when you opened my jersey!_

_Gimme control, you bastard! I’m gonna demolish all your biscuits!_

 

_What the hell! You wouldn’t!_

_Try me, you damn pissant._

 

_No, Greed, don’t!_

 

Despite Ling’s best efforts, Greed managed to prise control away from him, and straightened up, panting hard.

 

“Your Majesty, are you all right?”

 

Greed realised that everyone was staring at him. He grinned his razor grin.

 

“Of course I am, Toots. Now where are Ling’s biscuits? I need to eat them before he does.”

 

_You bastard!_

 

Lan Fan narrowed her eyes at him. “I stored both your boxes with my mixed spice biscuits. You can each have a few later.”

 

_Looks like she foiled your plan, huh, Greed?_

 

Greed scowled and folded his arms. “Damn pest.”

 

_Maybe I can make it up to you? Ask Lan Fan for the special present I asked her to get._

 

“Special present?” Greed asked, aloud.

 

“What?”

 

“Ling said to ask you about a special present ?”

 

Lan Fan nodded, and vanished out the door. Everyone stared after her for a moment, before Riza said “Why don’t we continue handing out the gifts until she returns?”

 

_What’s this special present, Ling?_

 

_It’s a surprise._

_Uh-huh. And why don’t I know anything about it?_

 

_I arranged everything with Lan Fan while you were sleeping._

 

“Here you go,” Lan Fan said, as she dropped a fist-sized gift, wrapped in gold, into Greed’s waiting palm.

 

_It’s from me. Hope you like it._

 

“What the hell?”

 

Greed pulled off the wrapping an stared. In his fist he had an exact replica of the world, made from precious stones such as sapphire, emerald, jade, amethyst, ruby and diamond.

 

_I know you’ve given up on being “Ruler of the World”, but I thought you’d appreciate it. And well,  . . ._

 

There weren’t words for what Ling wanted to say, but there was one benefit—or curse—about sharing a body. They could both sense each other’s emotions. So, Greed knew exactly how Ling felt about him. How Ling considered him the brother he never really had—his soul’s brother. And, Ling knew exactly how much that meant to Greed.

 

 _You damn, pissant. Cut it with the waterworks._ Greed blinked back the wetness in his eyes.

 

_You’re the one in control, Greed. Not me._

 

 _Yeah well,_ Greed handed back control, and withdrew. Ling could tell he was mulling over something.

 

_I didn’t get you anything._

_So? I don’t think that’s the point of gift-giving—though I’ll settle for you not eating all my biscuits, you dumbass._

 

_Still . . . damnit,  here you go._

 

Ling jerked, as he was engulfed in a warm, comforting feeling, from the roots of his hair, right to the tips of his fingers and toes. It took him several moments to realise the feeling was emanating from Greed. It felt familiar though, almost like—Ling bit his lip to keep from laughing.

 

 _You’re_ hugging _me? Yeah, you’re a real tough guy, Greed._

 

_You tell anyone, and I swear I’ll make us eat nothing but boiled cabbage for a month._

 

This time, Ling couldn’t suppress a snort. _Don’t worry, I won’t say anything, Mr. Softy._

 

_Shut up._

“Your Majesty, are you all right?” Lan Fan asked.

 

“I’m fine. Just talking to Greed.” Ling said, as the feeling of being hugged dissipated.

 

“Did he like the present?”

 

“He loved it. Thank you so much for helping me with it.”

 

He noticed the colour rising to her cheeks. “It was nothing,” she mumbled.

 

Ling reached out—though what he was going to do, even he didn’t know, but Ed suddenly cleared his throat, and made Lan Fan withdraw a little.

 

 _If someone interrupts us one more time  . . ._ Greed growled.

 

_I know._

 

Ling sighed, and tried to focus on the rest of the gift-giving.

 

“All right, here are the presents Ed and I got for you two,” Al said, as he passed a box to Riza and one to Izumi.

 

The two women opened their parcels, and glanced at each other with raised eyebrows.

 

“ _Flower vases?”_

 

Al beamed. “Of course. We thought that you needed something nice, in case anyone decided to give you flowers one day. We heard you didn’t have them at home.”

 

“Really,” Riza glanced at Roy who was studying his new lighter—a gift from Lan Fan—very intently. “I wonder who gave you that idea.”

 

“It’s a mystery, isn’t it, Lieutenant?” Roy asked, in a falsely innocent voice.

 

“Not really, sir.”

 

“Oh,” Roy swallowed hard and drew something out from his pocket. “Maybe this will do as an apology?”

 

He reached over and pressed it into Riza’s palm. She unwrapped it wearily, and froze. Ling craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the gift. It was a white chess piece—the queen. It was decorated with diamonds. For a moment, she simply stared at it. Then, Ling saw the shimmer of tears in Riza’s eyes.

 

Roy apparently noticed them as well. “Tears, Lieutenant? It’s a pity I don’t see this softer side of you more often.” As he spoke, Roy moved so that he was seated on the arm of Riza’s chair.

 

“It’s Christmas, sir. You’re allowed to become sentimental on Christmas,” she said in a tight voice. She leant towards him, and her eyes started to slide closed. Roy gave a soft smile.

 

“You’re also allowed to do this.”

 

His mouth met hers, and they kissed, ignoring the spectators. Inside Ling’s head, Greed groaned.

 

_I knew it. I knew that we’d have to deal with lovey-dovey festive crap._

 

_Come on, Greed. It’s not so bad._

 

_Yeah? Take a proper look around, kid._

 

Ling obeyed, and winced. Ed—apparently not wanting to be outdone by Roy—had started kissing Winry, whilst Izumi was kissing Sig.

 

Then, he noticed something else.

 

_Hey, Greed. Did you see where Lan Fan or Mei went?_

***

 

Mei crept lightly over the snow, her feet making almost no noise as she darted through the shrubbery. She’d seen Lan Fan leave the room when the couples had started kissing. She’d followed her, of course. It was a perfect opportunity to put her plan into action. Though, once she’d stepped onto the wooden porch, she’d realised that she would need a good vantage point if she wanted this to work. Hence, she was now creeping through the snow-dusted shrubbery. She eventually found a good spot, just behind a gnarled, old tree, from which she had a clear view of the back door and the porch.  Lan Fan stood there, gripping the porch railing tightly in both hands. She was staring sightlessly at the snow, and there was an agonised expression on her face. Mei felt her own heart wrench at the look.

 

Maybe, just maybe, she could help Lan Fan.

 

Mei pulled out the little plant from her pocket—the mistletoe Xiao Mei had “borrowed” from Alphonse. It looked a little rumpled, but it should serve its purpose. She drew out one of her kunai, and Xiao Mei helped her tie the plant to the end with a ribbon she’d taken from one of her gifts. As they worked, Mei heard heavy footsteps on the porch. She glanced up and saw Ling walking towards Lan Fan. He had her jersey draped over his arm.

 

"You shouldn’t be out here in the cold,” he said, sternly.

 

Lan Fan shrugged without turning to look at him. “I needed some air.”

 

He placed his hand on her shoulder, and moved beside her. She turned to face him.

 

“Are you okay, Lan Fan? Is it your automail?”

 

“I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

 

“Well, I do. And so does Greed, though he hates admitting it.” He thrust the jersey at her. “So would you just put this on?”

 

Mei saw that Lan Fan was about to protest, but after a look at Ling’s determined expression, she relented and pulled on the woollen jersey. It had obviously been made specifically for her. Though the one sleeve was long, the other ended just above her automail port, so that the screws and bolts couldn’t snag on the wool and make the jersey unravel. Mei pushed aside thoughts of her own warm jersey and inspected the knot she’d made. Despite her numb fingers, she’d tied it decently. Or, she hoped she had, anyway.  She’d only get one chance at this.

 

Mei took aim for the wooden beam above Lan Fan and Ling’s head and flung the kunai. Lan Fan noticed the projectile, and threw herself at Ling, tackling him to the ground.  In the same movement, Lan Fan threw her own kunai at her “attacker.” Mei ducked—and the kunai barely missed impaling her in the head.

 

“What are you doing?” Ling demanded, as Lan Fan tried to leap to her feet.

 

“There’s an assassin!”

 

“Toots,” Apparently, Greed had stolen control from Ling again. “I don’t think that was an assassin.”

 

He pointed upwards, and Mei watched as Lan Fan followed the gesture to the mistletoe dangling above them. She turned bright red, and climbed to her feet. Greed followed suit and grinned at her. Lan Fan was refusing to look at them.

 

“Toots, you know what’s gotta happen now, right? When two people get caught under the mistletoe?”

 

Mei bounced up and down, her eyes fixed on them.

 

_Come on! Come on!_

 

“There are three people under it. Not two,” Mei heard Lan Fan mutter.

 

Greed smirked and stepped towards Lan Fan, so that their body brushed against hers. He reached out and tilted her head towards them.

 

“So, what, Toots? We’ll just have to kiss you twice.”

 

With that, he swooped in and crashed their lips against hers. Lan Fan started, then responded, her hands moving up to tangle in their hair. He pulled their bodies closer together, and deepened the kiss. It went on for much longer than Mei expected, but when they broke apart, Mei clearly heard Ling rasp out Lan Fan’s name, before pulling her in for another kiss. This time, there was no hesitation. She kissed them so hard that they actually staggered back a little. Their arms snaked around Lan Fan and held her close. But, eventually, they broke apart, gasping. Lan Fan pulled herself out of their arms, and looked back at the snow. 

 

“We should go inside,” Lan Fan said quietly.

 

“Yeah. That was . . . nice,” Ling said.

 

Mei wanted to strangle him. _“That was nice”?!_ Honestly, what kind of response was “That was nice?” Why, why did her brother have to be such a moron?

 

“All right, you goddamn bastard, would you just shut up!” Ling yelled.

 

Mei nearly fell out of her hiding spot. Lan Fan looked like he’d slapped her.

 

“Your Majesty, I’m sorry if—“

 

“NO! NO! It’s not you. It’s Greed. He’s driving me crazy.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because, he’s being an asshole, as usual. But, he does have a point.” He suddenly fixed Lan Fan with a serious look. “Lan Fan, there’s something I need to tell you _._ I’ve been meaning to say this to you for a long time, actually, and I’m not sure—You know I can do without the running commentary?  . . . Yes, this is difficult . . . no, I don’t need your help. . . Yes I’m sure.  . . oh piss off.”

 

Mei clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. She wasn’t sure which was funnier—her brother ranting at empty air, or Lan Fan’s confounded expression.

 

“Your Majesty?”

 

“Ling. For now, call me Ling.”

 

“But, it’s not—”

 

“Please?” Even Mei could hear the desperation in that one word.

 

Lan Fan swallowed hard. “Ling? What is it?”

 

“Lan Fan, I think that you’re amazing. Beautiful, intelligent, hard-working, determined—no, I’m not saying that, Greed—an incredible warrior, and courageous as well. You deserve a much better delivery, and you’d get one if, _someone_ , didn’t keep interrupting me, but the truth is, I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you since I was five years old and you found me collapsed outside the training arena.”

 

Lan Fan’s jaw dropped open, but before she could say anything, Ling scowled.

 

“And, what exactly am I doing wrong?” he demanded. “Oh, this is funny, hey? Well, laugh at this. Lan Fan, I—”

 

He chocked, and doubled over, clutching his head.

 

“Yo—Ling?”

 

“Don’t you dare, you little piss—” Greed managed to force out the words before Ling wrenched back control.

 

Ling said, very quickly, “Lan Fan. I love you, but I’m not the _only one_ in love with you. Greed loves you just as much as I do, though he doesn’t want to admit it!” He let out a bark of laughter. “But, now he can’t deny it, because he doesn’t tell lies.”

 

“What?” Her eyes were very round.  “What are you talking about?”

 

“Sorry, Lan Fan, my time’s up.” Ling went still, and then Greed opened his eyes.

 

“That damn pest needs to learn when to keep his mouth shut.”

 

Lan Fan was staring at him warily. “I-was Ling telling the truth.”

 

“Look, Toots, I don’t do mushy—oh, fuck off, you little pissant. Haven’t you done enough damage? Yes, I’m getting to it. Just, stop rubbing it in my face,” Greed snarled. Finally, his eyes met hers. “Yes. Yes, I’m in love with you. Ling’s in love with you. So, for your first Christmas present you get the package deal of the Emperor of Xing and the Homunculus.”

 

Mei realised she had a stranglehold on the tree. Xiao Mei was gripping the tree equally tightly.

 

_Come on! Come on!_

 

Lan Fan’s eyes slid away from Greed and fixed on the mistletoe hanging above them. She was silent for a long time.

 

“If you two really feel that way,” she said, eventually, “then I have a gift for you as well. It’s not much, and you’ll have to share, but if you want her, the Imperial Bodyguard is yours. My feelings for you—for both of you—are the same.”

 

Ling let out a whoop. He lunged forward, grabbed Lan fan and started spinning her around.

 

“Lan Fan, that’s the best Christmas present ever!”

 

“Put me down!”

 

“Not a chance, Toots,” Greed swung her so that he was holding her, bridal-style. “We’ve waited too long for this to let go of you so easily.”

 

Lan Fan blinked, and blushed. Then, she clamped her arms around their neck, and kissed them. The kiss became so passionate that Mei felt her face heating.

 

“What the hell?” A familiar voice said, right behind Mei.

 

Mei spun around, and saw Alphonse standing there. He was gaping at the kissing trio.

 

“Get down!” Mei yanked him into her hiding place.

 

“B-but, what’s going on?”

 

“The three idiots finally admitted that they have feelings for each other, so shush. I’m not letting anything interrupt them.”

 

“Wait, is Lan Fan kissing Ling? Or Greed?”  

 

“It doesn’t matter. She loves them both. Oh, isn’t it romantic, Alphonse?”

 

Alphonse didn’t answer.

 

“Alphonse?”

 

She turned to look at him. He was staring at something above her. Mei looked up, and her jaw dropped. Xiao Mei was clinging to the tree, just above their heads. She had a piece of mistletoe clamped in her jaws.

 

 _You sneaky little traitor,_ Mei thought, as the blood rushed to her cheeks.

 

Alphonse gave an awkward laugh. “Well, I guess, since it is Christmas. . . ”

 

He darted forward, and kissed her. He tasted of honey and happiness.

 

It was the best present she’d ever received. 

  

**Author's Note:**

> So, they finally confessed! I hope everyone enjoyed this.
> 
> Btw, this was not how I thought they would confess. I had two other story ideas for Greelingfan brewing my head: one where Mei continues to be, in the words of TheManNowDog "the cutest cock-block ever" and one which was inspired by "Kiss the Girl" from the Little Mermaid.
> 
> I haven't written them, since I'm working on the longer story--and I'm worried my stuff becomes repetitive. If anyone is interested in seeing those, let me know in a comment.
> 
> As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! And again, Happy Christmas! :D


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